


Les Funérailles

by boomerbird10



Category: NCIS
Genre: F/M, Gen, Just some sad feels, there's no actual character death here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-03
Updated: 2020-05-03
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:27:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23976712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/boomerbird10/pseuds/boomerbird10
Summary: After learning about funerals, Tali asks Tony if they can hold one for her ima.
Relationships: Ziva David/Anthony DiNozzo
Comments: 3
Kudos: 16





	Les Funérailles

**Author's Note:**

  * For [indestinatus](https://archiveofourown.org/users/indestinatus/gifts).



> Thank you to Sofia for helping me come up with the idea for this ficlet. <3

"Séraphine's _grand-mére_ died yesterday," Tali tells Tony conversationally as they walk home from school one day.

"That's sad for Séraphine," Tony replies, squeezing his daughter's hand. "Did you tell her you were sorry for it? That's usually what people say when someone shares bad news."

"Yeah. Madame Delacroix said everyone had to say sorry."

"She was right. It's polite—and we've talked about being polite, right?"

"Please, thank you, excuse me, sorry for your _grand-mére_ ," Tali recites dutifully; it makes Tony smile. At five years old, she's still figuring that sort of thing out, but she tries and that's all he can really ask.

"Perfect, Tali-Tee."

Oh, how Ziva would smirk at the idea of _him_ teaching someone manners!

"Madame Delacroix said Séraphine will be gone on Friday. They're having a _funérailles_ on that day."

"Do you know what that is?"

"It's like a party, right? A sad party? For dead people?"

Tony chuckles a little before dropping her hand to fish out his keys so they can go in their building. "Something like that. The word in English is funeral. It's not exactly a party, though… It's more like—well, a time to remember someone you loved. You usually tell stories about the person, and you bring flowers and wear all black to show that you're sad. That sort of thing."

"Have you been to one?" Tali follows him inside like a little duckling, and they step into the newly replaced elevator that will take them to their floor.

"I've been to a few."

"Did you cry?"

"Sometimes I did."

Tali contemplates this mental image for a minute—surely adults don't cry, so they? "Did telling stories make you feel better about being sad?" she wants to know.

Tony drops a kiss to her head, and answers her question as they arrive at the fourth floor. "I think so. It's nice to think about the person you lost. It almost makes you feel like they're with you for a few minutes."

Tali nods, thinking about it, and steps out into the hall. "I want to have a _funérailles_ for _Ima_ ," she announces.

Tony freezes with one foot still in the car. "What?"

"I want to feel like she's with me."

There's little she could say that would make Tony's heart clench harder, and with a deep sigh, he steps in front of her and kneels so their eyes are at the same level. "You know she'd be here if she could, right, baby girl?"

"I know. But I'm still sad."

Tony tucks some of her curly hair behind her ear and gives her a little smile. "Me, too, Tali. Me, too. And you know what? Having a funeral is a great idea. You must be the smartest kid in the universe."

"Can we do it now?"

"I don't see why not. Let's get a snack in you first and then we can do it however you'd like."

"Alright. Thanks, Daddy."

* * *

Twenty minutes later, Tali disappears into her room and comes back with a black dress on. It's a little too small and a little too thin for the current weather, but they're not going anywhere and Tony wouldn't make her change even if they were. If this is something she feels she needs to do, he'll support her however he can.

"I need help with my tights."

"What do you say?"

"Please?"

"Good girl." He helps her into the tights and straightens out her dress a little; she looks adorable as always, but seeing her in all black makes him ache all the same. "Are you ready?"

"I am, but _you're_ not."

He laughs a little. "Sorry, silly me. Hang on." He changes into a suit, not caring at all that he's way overdressed to be sitting in a slightly messy flat. "Alright," he says when he gets back. "Do you want me to start talking, or do you want to go first?"

"You do a _funérailles_ in your house?" Tali asks, confused.

Tony raises his eyebrows. "Wellllll, not often, you're right. They're usually at funeral homes or churches—or, well, synagogues for Jewish people like _Ima_. Or sometimes they're just in nice places that the person would have liked."

"Can we go somewhere _Ima_ would have liked?"

"Sure we can. Do you have any ideas?" He can think of a few himself, but he thinks Tali should run the show here.

"Maybe the park?"

"I think _Ima_ would _love_ the park, sweetheart," he approves.

"Good!" Tali takes his hand and tugs him toward the coat rack to get ready to go.

* * *

At Tali's insistence, they stop at a florist on the way to the park to get _Ima_ some flowers. Tali picks out a ridiculously colorful bouquet—it's loud and showy, but when she asks her father if he thinks _Ima_ would like it, he says "absolutely!" with no hesitation. Ziva would love anything Tali picked for her—of that, Tony is certain.

God, he misses her, and he knows Tali does, too. Hopefully she'll soon be home.

When they get to the park, they find a nice quiet corner under a tree and lay the flowers down under it. "Do you want me to tell a story about _Ima_ to get us remembering her, Tals?" Tony offers, and Tali nods. "Alright, let me think…"

He pauses for a moment and smiles. "Did I ever tell you about the time when _Ima_ rescued me from a really mean cat?"

"No!" Tali's grinning, though—she's heard the story dozens of times. They talk about Ziva a lot. "Tell me, please, Daddy?"

"Well, we were working a case, of course, when all of this happened. We were checking out a really nice, really big house—I opened a door, and the biggest cat you've ever seen came running at me, hissing and yowling. It sounded like this!" He makes a bunch of silly guttural noises in the back of his throat, aiming to make his kid laugh, and it works. "It had claws almost as big as your fingers, baby girl, and it _hated_ me. I thought I was going to die! Luckily, _Ima_ jumped to my rescue. She grabbed a broom and swung at the thing."

He winks at her, and she giggles again. "It still didn't want to leave, but _Ima_ talked to it in her best I-mean-business voice. She said 'Tony may have disturbed your rest, and he may deserve a swipe to the face, but I cannot let you hurt him. He is my friend, even if he is dumb, and it is my job to protect him.'" He's paraphrasing, narrowing down the bickering a little for Tali's sake, but the gist of the story is true. "That's what I'll always remember about your _Ima_ , Tali-Tee. She's—um, she _was always_ —brave and kind. She would protect other people at her own expense without hesitation."

"I miss her."

"I do, too." Tony wraps his arm around Tali's little shoulders and squeezes. "Do you want to talk about her a little, or tell a story? It's okay if you don't want to. I can do all the talking if it makes things easier for you, little one."

"I want to say things, too."

"Then start whenever you're ready." He kisses the top of her head.

" _Ima_ was… so pretty," Tali says after a slight pause to think. "She, um, she... " She pauses and looks at Tony, a tiny frown furrowing her brow. "I can't remember as much as you."

"That's alright," Tony promises gently. "The really nice thing about funerals is that you can just say what's on your mind—what's in your heart. There are no rules. Say whatever you want, love."

"Okay…" A slight pause, and then: "She was really good at hugging. I remember her hugging me when I was really little. And she smelled good. I think she smelled how _ima_ s are supposed to smell." She's staring at the flowers as she talks, something for which Tony is glad; he's tearing up and he really doesn't want her to see. "And she taught me lots of words. I think she was so smart. Wasn't she, Daddy?"

"She was," Tony agrees softly. His voice is thick, evidence of the emotion he can't quite fight off. "One of the smartest people I've ever met."

"Smarter than you?"

"Oh, by a long shot." Tony lets out a husky laugh and snuggles her closer. "That's where you got _your_ intelligence from, Tali."

"Can we leave a picture with the flowers? So other people can remember _Ima_ , too?"

Tony hesitates slightly before nodding. "Sure." He pulls his wallet from his pocket and draws out the worn old photo he keeps there. It's a selfie that feels ancient now, taken in another lifetime—in it, he's smirking at the camera. Ziva is behind him, laughing and looking somewhere out of the frame, unaware that she's being photographed. It's a cherished photo and he's loath to part with it, but it's just a copy and he knows all of this is doing Tali some good. There's no one else he would give it up for, though. "Here you go, baby girl."

Tali accepts the photo and places it ever-so-gently amongst the colorful daisies in her bouquet. "This is my _ima_. She loves me very much, but she can't be here right now," she tells no one in particular, her voice small and suddenly a little wobbly. "Daddy?"

"Yeah?"

"Can we go home now?"

"Of course we can. Did you finish everything you wanted to say about _Ima_?"

"I think so. But I'm still sad. I want to be alone."

"I get that." Tony offers his hand, and Tali accepts it. "You can take all the time you need. You _always_ can. You know that, right?"

"Yeah."

"Alright then, little ninja. Let's go home. Thank you for helping me remember _Ima_ today."

* * *

Across the park, Ziva watches them leave; she doesn't bother to swipe away at the tears quietly trickling down her cheeks, and though the temperature is very cold, she doesn't adjust her coat. She can't afford distractions right now, not when she's getting a rare, precious view of her family. They have no idea she's there, and it's better that way.

She comes back to Paris whenever she feels she can risk it, when Sahar's trail has gone cold yet again and she hasn't recently seen anyone following her. She never stays for long, twenty-four hours at most, but those few hours keep her going.

She never expected the bittersweet experience of hearing her daughter and her old love mourn her, though.

The wind was just right to allow her to hear what they said, and something about it was… freeing. They speak of her with so much love, even now. It reminds her that there's a light at the end of the tunnel, no matter how far off it might be, and for the moment, the loneliness that she carries with her doesn't crush her like it usually does. She _aches_ to hold them both, though, and it takes all the strength she has to stay in place while they walk away.

Once they're gone, she steels herself to leave; one hard swallow and she turns on her heel, leaving the park without looking back.

She doesn't know it, but this will be the last time she sees them before meeting with Sahar once and for all.


End file.
